


How We Got Here

by CosmicPeppermintLatte



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicPeppermintLatte/pseuds/CosmicPeppermintLatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bad days and bad decisions led them straight into each other's arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How We Got Here

 Yeah, his eyes are the color of whiskey.  Is that too cliché?  Right now he tastes like whiskey too.  I’m sure I’m no different.  I can’t really tell anymore.  All he tastes like to me is sweet…  I don’t know… Wine maybe?  Romance? Hah, I’m a grown ass man…  And yes, Jean tastes like love and sweet, and all the good things in this world.

We got here.  After a bottle of Canadian whiskey and two liters of coke, we got here.  Sprawled out on the middle of my living room floor, we got here.  His lips are hot on mine, and I’m holding him like he’s the only thing anchoring me to this moment.

It started out slow. He had a shitty day at work and halfway through the angry texts I invited him over for a drink.  We’re best friends so of course it’s not weird.  I had a shitty day myself anyway.  It was around nine when he got here.  He brought a pizza and a bottle of the pizza place’s too expensive Coke.  We ate and complained about our shitty jobs; then I made the amazing mistake of breaking out the Wild Turkey.

By ten thirty we were spilling our guts to each other.  After a ten year long friendship we were spewing secrets to each other that neither of us had heard before.  He found out that I had a terrible crush on a regular that came in every week to my shitty retail job out in the heart of downtown.  Then in return I found out about the coworkers he banged in the backroom after he closed the bar he works at.  He learned about how I wanted to go to Belgium and visit the relatives my father never talks about.  Then I learned just how fluent he was in French and how he could teach me if I really wanted.

Then, before I knew what was happening, I was kissing him.  I had my arms around his neck and I was straddling his lap.   In the back of my mind I knew how wrong it was, how much I had fucked up.  Until his arms were wrapping around my waist and he was kissing me back.  If I wasn’t so caught up in the moment I would have opened my eyes in shock and asked him.  But I didn’t.  And he didn’t ask.  He did nothing but grip me tighter and slowly tangle his right hand in my hair.

I was drunk, but I wasn’t totally trashed, not yet anyway.  I took his advances and I matched.  I ran my hands up and down his sides.  I undid his vest and untucked his shirt, greedily wanting to touch his bare skin. He moaned into my mouth when my rough hands grazed his sides.  That’s when I knew I was going too far.  I slowed my actions with my hands and I kissed him again.  This time slowly and with less urgency than in the beginning when I crashed our lips together.  My head dropped to his shoulder while I was still clutching at his sides.  I could feel myself mutter into his neck that we should go to bed.  He hastily agreed and we stumbled into my bedroom.

By the time we got there I knew he was further gone than I was.  I helped him out of his clothes, and somehow managed to get one of my cotton shirts over his head.  It was a little too big on him but I saw the smirk on his lips as he sat on my bed and watched me undress myself.  I slipped on a shirt as well hearing Jean give a quiet noise of disappointment.  I slipped into my bed and pulled him down with me as I sunk into the sheets.  I didn’t let my kisses and caresses stop.  I pulled the covers over both of us and even in his drunken stupor, I swear I could feel him press closer to me and whisper my name.  Then, I spoke.  I told him about everything.  I told him how much I had loved him for so long.  I told him how much I cherished his friendship.  I told him how perfect we would be together.

I felt him shift in my arms. I got worried then, wondering if I had said too much and if he was starting to sober up.  But he simply made noises of agreement and snuggled deeper into my chest.  He then told me all the things he loved about me: my laugh, the way my face lit up when I talked about some stupid actor I liked, the way we danced drunk in his parents kitchen when we were in high school after prom because we were both to nerdy to get dates…  He told me how he’s always loved everything about me but he never said anything because I was always tied to someone else.  Which was true half the time.

What he didn’t know was the way my eyes always followed him.  How his name always fell from my lips when I was alone in my room thinking of all the things that I thought were perfect at 3am, or how I looked at him when he was fast asleep in his bed while I fucked around on his laptop posting funny status updates on his Facebook when we both still kept in touch with all our friends from high school.  

But now, none of our past mattered.  Here he was, in my arms making stupid faces while he counted the freckles that dotted across my face in the low light of the city through my window.  Suddenly I was too tired to think.  I pressed my lips softly to his one more time.  I was vaguely aware of him whispering to me that he hoped I didn’t forget everything that happened in the morning.  I tightened my hold on him then and pressed my lips to his forehead.

I wasn’t going to forget a thing that happened tonight.  I had already spent the entire time committing his touch to memory.  I just hoped he headed his own words.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on tumblr a while ago and just figured I'd bring it over here. Comments and kudos always appreciated!


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